


lost and insecure

by hobbitheichou (midnightstarlight)



Series: in the absence of a mother [1]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe, Other, rivetra baby
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-28
Updated: 2015-01-28
Packaged: 2018-03-09 10:48:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3246860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/midnightstarlight/pseuds/hobbitheichou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>compilation of short stories and drabbles about the relationship of Levi and his daughter, Hilda. Petra and other characters, from the SNK universe and some original, might appear as well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	lost and insecure

**Author's Note:**

> compilation of short stories and drabbles about the relationship of Levi and his daughter, Hilda. Petra and other characters, from the SNK universe and some original, might appear as well. 
> 
> Levi Ackerman and Co. belongs to Isayama Hajime. 
> 
> Except for Hilda. 
> 
> She belongs to Ro. 
> 
> Hilda is Ro's (raceshadowsinthemoonlight on tumblr and racingshadows here on A03) headcanon Rivetra baby that I really like to adopt. First chapter is a birthday gift I wrote for her last year. :)

She likes walking along the abandoned railway track. She would follow them until the tracks end or where the trains are parked before turning back. Sometimes she would sit on the rusty and slowly decomposing metal chairs to read or to sketch or to think - of anything and everything, really.

She does this everyday. She doesn’t tell him, she knows he’ll be worried.

She pulls the scarf over her nose. It’s unusually cold for autumn but she likes it. She regrets not bringing her camera though, the abandoned tracks looked magnificent covered in orange and golden leaves.

"Where have you been today?" He asks her even though he knows where she went.

"To school," came her nonchalant reply.

Obviously she wanted to add, because she did go to school. But he is her father and he deserves respect.

She stands there, awkwardly waiting for her father to say something like don’t go there or be careful. 

She knows he wouldn’t say it though, wouldn’t plead to his daughter. He has always been proud and he has always given her her freedom.

"I see. Eat your dinner and do your homework" he tells her before returning to his book. Sometimes she thinks that her father is not capable of emotions. 

It’s a routine. She goes home, dad asks her the mandatory questions, re-heat her measly dinner, do her homework, go to bed.

It’s exhausting.

She flops down on her bed and stares at the picture of a woman with fiery hair and eyes the color of sunset tacked to her ceiling.

"Hi, mom."

Petra was her name. Petra meaning rock. Petra who is no longer here. Petra who is no more than air and memories.

She thinks it’s funny that the deathblow that put an end to Petra the rock, Petra the eternal, was brought by a cut from a rusty old metal sheet in the abandoned train station.

It’s not the cut that killed her, per se, but the bacteria that lodged itself deep in her skin and into her veins. Clostridium tetani, it’s called. The tetanus bacteria.

Petra died when she was just learning how to talk, how to walk on her own, and how to count to ten.

She regrets not not being able to tell her how much she loves her, how much she longs for her embrace, for the sound of her voice.

She misses her.

And it’s odd, don’t you think? how a person misses someone they don’t even know.  
——-  
She loves talking to her grandfather.

He tells her stories about her mom and, somehow, the stories fill the gap in her heart. The stories make her whole, the stories are proof that her mother was real, that she lived, and breathed, and walked on this earth.

He tells her how much of Petra he sees in her. He tells her that she is the greatest proof that Petra lived and she takes pride in that.  
——-  
Aunt Mikasa is her favourite. Aunt Mikasa who taught her how to box, who gave her the red scarf, her “safety scarf”

This will keep you safe. Wrap this tight around your neck when you feel lonely. It is your mother’s arms.

She trudges along the muddy walkway of the cemetery. There’s a light drizzle and she pulls her scarf over her nose and her coat tighter around her. The trees are bare and the fallen leaves are the same color as her mother’s hair.

She forgot to buy flowers.

She stares at the tombstone where her mother’s name is engraved. The letters flowing and in gold.

She wishes she wasn’t here, wishes that she’s not standing on her mother’s grave, unsure of what to do, unsure of what to say.

She feels lonely and lost and I hope you’re in heaven, mom. I hope you’re happy.

"Hilda?"

She turns to find her father, a bouquet in his arms. He looks at her and offers her a smile, she smiles back and watches as her father places the flowers on the cold stone.

"How long have you been here?"

She shrugs. She doesn’t know, she’s bad at tracking time especially when she’s lost in thought.

They stand there, reading and re-reading her name on stone as if by doing so brings her back.

She pokes her father’s arm, “Do you think she’s proud of me?”

"She is," he tells her.

And, for the first time in years, he encloses her in his arms.


End file.
